At length came the day to move. A local truckman who knew Mr. Thompson well moved them for nothing.
"You can do some odd jobs for me some time," said the truckman to Louis Thompson.
"Thank you, I will—when I am able," answered the sufferer.
A good deal of the pain had left Mr. Thompson, but he was weak, and to start to regular work was out of the question. Another friend took him to his new cottage in a carriage. He gazed at the old place in wonder.
"Well, it certainly is improved!" he ejaculated. "We shall get along here very well."
The moving was done early in the morning and by nightfall Randy and his mother had the cottage in tolerable order. The stove was set up and found to draw good, and the water from the well tasted fine.
"Now there is one thing certain," said Randy, "Mother, come what may, we shall have a roof over our heads."
"Yes, my son, and I am grateful for it," answered Mrs. Thompson.
"Uncle Peter may be a hard man to get along with, but he has certainly helped us."
The next two weeks were busy ones for Randy. Jerry Borden was true to his promise and not only did some plowing for the Thompsons but also helped Randy to put up a new fence, partly of stone and partly of rails. It was agreed that Borden should have the use of part of the little farm for pasturing, and in return was to give the Thompsons two quarts of milk a day and two pounds of butter per week, and also a dozen fresh eggs a week while the hens were laying.